I haven’t written to you before, as I felt, since the rise of the angry mum blogger (a movement in which I’m loud and proud, New Mum), you’ve been a little bombarded with communication. Many of us have taken to the internet in collective reassurance having seen you looking pissed off in playgrounds, close to breakdowns at supermarket checkouts and fit to kill at Jo Jingles. And I completely commend the compassion behind all this correspondence. However, the overwhelming nature of motherhood, in all its lovely lunacy, is something I feel sufficiently covered in many-an open letter from the mum-blogging world. I’m writing to you, New Mum, because I believe there’s a growing pressure on you that’s been unchallenged for far too long now; the narcissistic, wanky world of Instagram…

OK, I’ll admit it. Since having kids, I have committed many social media ‘crimes’, among them: filling my timeline with baby spam, ranting about not sleeping and of course, the biggest Internet sin, starting a mum blog (yeah, sorry about). However, in this digital age of many, many types of Internet twat, I’m very proud to say I’m not a mum moron. I know, a very bold statement – but one I stand by…

In short, a mum moron is a self-important, critical cock. She believes motherhood has given her some sort of license to pass judgement on all matters concerning parenting, and the internet provides her with the perfect, vast means of lording it over others.

It’s true, once online, we all have to make our peace with the digital moron. But that doesn’t mean we can’t scoff at them in their many forms – so that’s exactly what I’m going to do…

Note to any prissy moron who’s made it this far: the following content contains some (more) swear words, a little blasphemy and numerous mum stereotypes bound to cause offense. So, you might want to fuck off now?

The UK’s leading supermarket chains are forecasting a huge hike in wine trade, during the forthcoming week.

“Based on previous wine sales around this time of year, we have imported three times more than normal to prep for the expected surge,” explained Van White, Asda’s Senior Wine Buyer. “It’s incredible – by 9am the alcohol aisles are teeming with mainly fraught mums frantically filling their trollies.”

Tesco’s head of Beers, Wines and Spirits, Jackie Daniels, said her brand had observed a similar late-October boom: “It’s like feral Supermarket Sweep – I’ve even seen kids swiftly removed from their trolley seats to make room for more wine.”

“But it’s not just late October,” Ginny Tonnick, booze buyer for Morrison’s added. “We are seeing something similar happening in mid-February, around Easter – and at the end of July this year, we completely sold out of wine and had to get some extra security to deal with the angry crowds. Barbara on Cheese in our Tiverton branch said when she was leaving work one evening, a mum even threatened to follow her home and leave her kids with her.”

So, do they suppose the anticipated hike in wine sales is linked with the half-term holiday this week?

Louise, mum to seven-year-old James and five-year-old Cassie, said she could answer that:

Lotta Cleevedge, star of The Only Way is Maidenhead, stunned onlookers at a shopping centre when she was spotted sporting a slightly thicker midriff – SIX DAYS after giving birth.

“She had sunglasses on and was trying to hide behind a Sudocrem display at Mothercare, but it was definitely her,” said shopper Bet Judgy, while cramming Krispy Kremes down her gullet. “I couldn’t believe the size of her – she was definitely carrying four, maybe five, pounds of extra weight. She looked proper shit.”

Fitness expert Nartsi Betch, described Lotta’s excess flab as inexcusable and a sign of bone idleness: “She’s a total disgrace. Her baby is almost a week old! She should be running half marathons while breastfeeding, at this stage.”

Her fans were similarly outraged. “How dare that fat fucker walk around like that,” trolled Mike Ockismall, in the Daily Male’s comments section. “Who will I think about now while I touch myself under my Man United duvet, trying to keep focus as my mum draws the curtains on the landing?”

Lotta’s agent Maxie Spin declined to comment on Lotta’s massive baby weight, but did confirm ITV’s Loose Women has booked her to talk about representing ‘real mums’, despite her being about 1000 pounds lighter than the average new mother.

“I can also say,” added Maxie, “Lotta will likely be crediting any future weight loss to ‘running around after a baby’, and not the very expensive personal trainer she’s hired for a forthcoming shoot with OK! mag.”

Asked for her thoughts on this, mum of four Sue Sleepy – once she stopped laughing – said: “What a crock of fucking shit. I lost no weight whatsoever ‘running around after a baby’. It just gave me a massive appetite for wine. And cake. But mostly wine.”

A 35-year-old mother of an only child has received an OBE for her services to parenting.

“I’m thrilled to be bestowed with such an honour,” said Debbie Hargreaves, mum to six-year-old Gemma. “Friends are always grateful when I offer a bit of advice, or share my vast experience with them. I’ve been a mother for six whole years now, so there’s not much I don’t know. My sister-in-law has even hilariously nicknamed me, Mother Superior!

“But all joking aside, I do like to offer my parenting expertise whenever I can. I even helped a stranger out in Co Op the other day, when I suggested she try a nice soothing tone instead of a Freddo Frog to placate her tantruming three-year-old.

“I think my generosity must have overwhelmed her, because she didn’t say anything, but I’m sure I heard her repeatedly wishing me luck as I walked away – and calling me a ‘complete and utter brick’ for my assistance.”

Debbie, from Nuneaton, added she plans to travel to Africa soon to teach the people of Kenya how to better their attachment-parenting styles.

Virtuous mums around the world are today reeling from the shock news that breastfeeding will not make them saviours of the human race.

The extensive studies, carried out by the BMA, found conclusively that lactating women showed no signs whatsoever, of being able to walk on water, or heal the lame.

“I absolutely dispute this,” said 39-year-old Jane, while breastfeeding her seven-year-old in the menswear department of a busy John Lewis. “Why else would I feel this superior to everyone else in the whole wide world? And my brelfies have earnt me 2,305 followers on Instagram. That’s 2,293 more than Jesus.”

Others greeted the revelation with delight. “Well, I welcome the news,” said Mr Davidson, a cockney former comedian currently signing on. “’Ow comes it’s only the old, fat ones with tatty tits what wop em out? Fackin’ lesbians! Me mum never titted me, and it never did me no ’arm!”

Medics have reassured smug mums they will still get to bleat, ‘breast is best’ at their chavvy bottle-feeding counterparts. However, their assurances are little comfort to some mums, including stay-at-home mother-of-three Sarah, who sobbed: “I just really, really wanted to turn water into wine…”

A mother of two from Walthamstow, east London, today admitted her life on Instagram, with over 80,000 followers, is a complete and utter lie.

Before a packed forum on Mumsnet, mum Serena Dubois was forced to confess as a number of allegations were hurled at her by irate women; all very liberal with the angry emoji.

Among the revelations, Serena conceded to never laughing in the rain with her kids, being a regular user of the Juno filter and not really knowing what the peace sign means, despite using it for virtually every shot on her account.

“Do you even have any black friends?” demanded one Mumsnetter.

“No, none” said Serena, with a subsequent sad face icon. “They were just people in Starbucks whose soya lattes I paid for.”

The truth behind the Insta-sham was revealed when it transpired that deceiving Serena had cropped out an NCT friend from a post, for being too fat and ugly.

“She told me that my Matalan jeggings really let the shot down,” said the fat and ugly NCT friend. “She said that if I made the effort to look less mumsy and more like Rihanna, I might have made the shot.”

“I just feel really let down,” said one follower. “If I’d have known she had a fat and ugly NCT friend, I would have never have followed her. I feel cheated – like I’ve lost hours of my life that I can never get back.”

Serena, whose real name it transpires is Sally Dobson, has promised to reimburse the thousands of pounds she earnt from deals with Baby Boden and newly-launched line, Smug Mother.

“I’m sorry for the upset I’ve caused,” she added. “If it’s any consolation, I haven’t misled people about everything – I am genuinely very pretty and thin.”

We are currently experiencing a few maternal difficulties. Please bear with us…[Test Card F, BBC]

A troll once informed me, among other uglier, slightly more menacing insults, that she found my blog, glib. I’ll take that, I thought. Clearly I threaten the careers of Dear Deirdre and Dr Miriam Stoppard in no way whatsoever, but if it’s a few juvenile jokes about being a knackered mum, or much reference to wine you’re after, I’m your girl. I believe us ‘inconsequential’ mum bloggers have our place in the internet world – and if it’s dinner-party dialogue about motherhood you desire, then there’s always the hallowed pages of The Pool or Mumsnet to keep you in a steady supply of worthy debate and sound bites.

However, what the troll said next hit a nerve. She suggested my flippancy was a ruse because, deep down, I was struggling with parenting. I felt stung. The sweary name calling I could sort of handle, writing her off as a typical vitriolic troll fighting demons of her own. But suddenly she sounded articulate and I hate to admit it, quite perceptive. I remember shaking slightly as I read her angry words via my mobile phone and, feeling instantly sick, I couldn’t finish my Saturday night curry.

Do you sometimes find yourself a little narky this festive time of year? Hard to believe, but I know I can get a tad tetchy. I’m not talking the usual stresses here, like the pine needles filling up your Hoover bag, or trying to locate the end of the Sellotape. Years of experience and many-a wrapping rage prepare us for that shit. I’m referring to the less obvious stuff that year-after-year, since having kids, you are never fully braced for.

Well, this Christmas will be different. Thanks to me. And booze. Read on to get my top tipples (I know, I’m a wordplay genius), for seven Christmas pissers likely to drive you to drink…